Ritual of the Broken (Haunted Hearts)

Chapter 10

Chapter

Ten

“ S he knew I was a werewolf,” Adrian said as they walked deeper into the library.

“She probably read your magical resonance,” Ollie said.

“So everyone here knows I’m a werewolf.” Adrian lowered his head, giving Ollie the sense he was trying to keep everyone in his sights.

“Not necessarily. It’s her job to watch who enters the Archives. She has to know exactly who’s entering. This is where the knowledge collected by the Synod is kept. Some of it can be dangerous.” He didn’t like to make excuses for a harpy like Morwen, but it was the truth.

The Synod Archives were a labyrinth of bookshelves, cases of arcane items on display, tables for researchers, casting chambers, and other rooms for mysterious purposes. The air inside flowed thick with the ambiance of aged parchment, rare inks, and the faint, ever-present tingle of magic. From the way Adrian scowled, it was pretty clear he felt it too—or smelled it, at least. Probably much more than Ollie did.

It was surprisingly bright on the main level. The ceiling soared high above with skylights that appeared to look out onto blue skies in spite of being beneath the ground. The vaulted ceilings were marked with intricate, glowing runes meant to enhance knowledge and preserve the texts within the walls. Scrolls existed, probably even in the Archives, that came from the period of mortal prehistory. Mages shared blood with creatures that existed before mortals came to rule the realm, and their history touched on those eras blind to mortals.

Other mages wandered through the stacks, browsing the general reference areas, carrying books, and reading at tables. This was the level for general reference related to the various arcana and magecraft.

“I think there’s a whole section dedicated to werewolves on this floor,” Ollie said as they passed shelves of books, many old but others appearing as if they’d just come from a printing press. The expression on Adrian’s face said he wanted to punch something, and a muscle in his jaw jumped like it was electrically charged.

“Do werewolves have anything like this?” Ollie asked him.

“You’re the ones with a whole section in your library on werewolves. What do you think?” Adrian asked him in a tone that hinted at sarcasm. “Werewolves live in small towns, mostly. Most of them are lucky to have a Dollar Store and a Walmart. We’re not well organized outside of the packs usually centered around their chosen small towns.”

Ollie glanced over at him. “Then what’s your story? Why are you in the big city?”

Adrian’s mouth did something that was neither a scowl nor a grin, but something between the two—a taut line that hinted at memories not quite willing to surface. “You know all those stories of cults building compounds and scaring off people who don’t fit their little world? Werewolves are that times ten.”

Ollie leaned closer to Adrian and sniffed. “You smell tense,” he said.

Adrian shot Ollie a sharp glance. “What?” His eyes burned with intensity.

“Relax. I’m kidding.” Ollie faced forward again. Maybe some Xanax was in order, though he wasn’t sure it would work on a werewolf.

They reached a set of stairs and started down in silence. As they neared the floor of the lower level, Adrian gave Ollie an assessing glance. “Actually, you’re the one who smells tense.”

Ollie stopped at the bottom and puffed his cheeks out with a heavy sigh. “Yeah, well, I’m about to visit the ex of seven years who dumped me for a job.”

“A job?”

“Yeah. This one he has now.” Adrian watched Ollie like he expected him to continue. “It’s a long story,” Ollie said. At least the big guy looked a little less like he was going to turn furry and eat someone. But only mildly less.

They reached a set of closed and locked double wooden doors where a man sat at a desk, reading by a single lamp. Ollie didn’t know his name.

“Emmerich is expecting us,” Ollie said to him.

The man looked them up and down, then referred to a ledger in front of him. It was enchanted, more efficient than computers and the Internet these days. After a moment of running his finger down a list, he nodded. “You’ve been given temporary access. It was contested due to your lineage, but Emmerich has granted it all the same.”

Ollie forced a smile at him. “You’re too kind.”

The man grumbled something and waved a hand. The doors in front of them swung open, and they were allowed to enter.

“What was that about?” Adrian asked.

Ollie rolled his eyes. “Just more of why I love the Synod so much.”

Adrian walked alongside him and leaned in close. “Now you smell like sarcasm.”

It was dimmer here because the rows of shelves were densely packed together. This section of the Archives was filled with the scrolls, tomes, and manuscripts deemed too precious for general consumption. The upper floor was light reading, the histories, and light spellwork. The lower levels were where a lot of mages spent their time pursuing the knowledge that they often described as their life’s work. This floor was the last one open to the general Synod public, which was why Emmerich’s office was here. The lower levels required different levels of access. It was Emmerich’s job to gatekeep those who wanted to search the stronger spells and rituals found in the sublevels.

This was a place mages enjoyed. It was a center of knowledge, and mages, if nothing else, sought knowledge. And the Chicago Archives were third only to Shanghai and Paris in terms of the quality of its contents.

But to Ollie, coming here only stirred up the bad memories of school, of being shunned and taunted by his classmates. Of the Synod’s treatment of him and his family.

And of how everything ended with Emmerich.

They continued walking until they reached a row of closed doors. The sign above the door read “Special Collections.” Ollie stopped in front of it. He might actually puke.

“You okay?” Adrian asked. When he touched Ollie’s shoulder, Ollie snapped out of it.

The gesture was both reassuring and exciting. Ollie took in a breath and let it out slowly. “I’m fine,” he said, even if he wasn’t completely sure that was true.

Emmerich had been everything to him once, a partner in love and magic. But that was before things had changed, before Emmerich had become a “yes man” for the Synod, before their relationship had crumbled under the strain of differing ideologies. Emmerich was still a sore spot for Ollie .

And he was just beyond those doors.

Adrian pulled the door open.

Ollie almost tried to stop him. “What are you doing?”

“Hurrying this along,” Adrian said. “If I wait for you, this case will never be solved.”

The special collections area was a space with reading tables and shelves on the walls that held various tomes and manuscripts. The far wall held a bank of windows that looked into another room lined with still more shelves and stairs leading down. The heavy wooden doors to that area were closed and heavily warded. Anyone who tried to enter without permission was likely to suffer some excruciating magical fate. What that fate was remained a secret other than the stories of the few unlucky souls carried out still twitching or dead. The Synod didn’t want anyone preparing countermeasures for their wards.

Standing at one of those tables, working on an open tome, was a tall , handsome man with pale skin and dark brown hair. His gray eyes were fixed on a book as his long, elegant fingers turned the page.

“That him?” Adrian asked.

“That’s him,” Ollie said, deadpan.

Adrian made a sound. “So, you go for older men,” Adrian said.

Ollie said nothing. If Adrian knew how old Emmerich really was, he’d probably be in for quite a shock.

But even from this distance, Ollie had to admit, Emmerich still looked good. He always did. All sharp lines and clean creases and neat hair. His eyes sparkled with an intensity that came out when he held knowledge in his hands. This job was right for Emmerich, even though Ollie hated to admit it.

And Ollie hated that he was still attracted to him.

Emmerich looked up then, his gaze falling on Ollie. The two stared at each other across the room for a long moment. Ollie’s heart pounded in his chest as he fought off the thrill of being watched by him. This man was not allowed to do that to him anymore.

Then Emmerich placed a ribbon inside his book and closed it with hands that could easily have played piano or worked the strings of a violin. Sensual hands that thrummed along Ollie’s skin at one time. But Emmerich closed that book, too.

“You can do better,” Adrian said.

Ollie glanced up at Adrian, noticing the curl on his lip and the way he gnawed at the inside of his cheek. At the strong jaw with a bit of scruff and the way his throat worked as he swallowed. Maybe…

“Oliver,” Emmerich said, his voice calm and steady. “This is a surprise.”

Ollie met his gaze. “Emmerich. How have you been?” He tried his best to keep the waver out of his voice.

“I’m doing well.” Emmerich left off with that as he silently studied Ollie in a way that made him feel very self-conscious. It reminded him of the time they met, back when Ollie thought a guy like Emmerich talking to him was a big deal. Emmerich was a mysterious scholar furthering his studies on ancient arcane languages. They both shared a dislike for the Synod. They bonded over ideas of what they could do to piss off the instructors at their school.

“You haven’t changed at all,” Emmerich said at last.

Ollie wasn’t sure what to make of that, but it felt judgy. He didn’t like it. “You look tired,” Ollie said, crossing his arms. “I guess the new job has kept you pretty busy.”

The skin around Emmerich’s eyes did a little twitch, and Ollie felt as if he’d regained some ground.

“I’m not here to catch up,” Ollie said. “This is Detective Adrian Keller of the Chicago Police Department.”

“Homicide division,” Adrian said, showing his badge.

Emmerich’s chin lifted. “The mortal police,” Emmerich said as he turned his attention to Adrian. A touch of magic breezed across Ollie’s skin, and Adrian growled. “Might I ask why you thought to bring a therianthrope onto the Synod grounds, much less into the Archives?” His tone was disapproving, so that Ollie moved a small step in front of Adrian. As if Adrian needed his protection.

“He’s a werewolf,” Ollie said. “And he’s here with me.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Emmerich said.

Ollie quickly remembered even more of the bad with this man. At least it made it easier. Remembering why he and Emmerich broke up made him want to get this over with. He reached into his pocket and produced his phone.

“We’re here because of this.” Ollie shoved his phone at Emmerich with the image open to the symbol they found at Zachary O’Brien’s apartment. “Believe me, if I’d known anyone else who was better at symbols than you, I certainly would have gone to them.”

Emmerich’s eyebrows pushed together as he examined the image on the phone. After a moment, he took the phone from Ollie’s hand. “Where did you find this?”

Ollie started, “At a?—”

Adrian interrupted. “It was at a crime scene. It’s part of an ongoing murder investigation.”

Still studying the symbol and even using his fingers to zoom in closer on the image, Emmerich said, “It would be helpful if you gave me more context, then I could perhaps give you a better idea of its intent.”

Ollie crossed his arms. “So, you know what it is?”

For a moment, Emmerich seemed lost in the symbol. Then he glanced up at Ollie. “No. No, I don’t know what it is. This isn’t from any of the usual runic languages.”

Ollie could have told him that. “And?”

“But I may have some ideas.”

“Such as...” Adrian said.

Finally, Emmerich looked directly at Adrian. “I’m going to need more information. Sigils can be placed on anything, and without knowing the context in which this one was drawn, I can’t really narrow down what the mage who carved it intended.”

“Clearly, it’s a marking from someone who intended for the victim to be dead,” Adrian said. Ollie could feel Adrian even closer behind him, his body heat radiating like a furnace .

Ollie turned to Adrian and found him only a few short inches away. “He’s right. That’s not something I relish admitting, but if we’re going to figure out what this sigil is for, then we need to tell him more about the case.” He glanced back over his shoulder at Emmerich. “He’s not going to tell anyone else, right, Emmerich?”

Emmerich had the phone held at an odd angle. “Hmm? Oh, of course not. Confidentiality is strictly enforced between the Archives and Synodian mages.”

“Speaking of which, I am still a Synodian mage,” Ollie said. “Just as a reminder.” Even though he wasn’t invited to participate in many of the Synodian functions, they still had to recognize him as a member of their ranks in the city of Chicago.

“Yes, yes. Of course,” Emmerich said with a wave of his hand.

With a sigh, Adrian described the scene around the place where they found the symbol. Then, he described the murder and the state of the victim. Emmerich’s expression remained unchanged as he listened. Ollie told him about the vision he had and how he ended up involved in the case.

“You had a vision?” Emmerich said with an annoyingly perplexed look on his face.

“Yes,” Ollie answered with a tightness to his tone. “Is that so hard to believe?”

With a shrug, Emmerich looked back down at the phone. “Sometimes even mediocrity can have a moment.”

Taking a breath to calm himself, Ollie continued. “And I think the symbol interfered with a spell I cast to find evidence in the victim’s apartment,” Ollie said.

This time, those judgmental eyes were again on Ollie. “Is that the excuse you’re going with these days?” Emmerich commented.

A flare of anger ran through Ollie. “It wasn’t like that. The spell worked. Don’t you see how it’s glowing in the picture?”

“Getting a spell to work was never your problem,” Emmerich said. “It’s keeping you from killing someone in the process which is your real issue.”

Ollie’s eyes widened. He turned from Emmerich with a glance at Adrian, who returned his gaze in unreadable silence. “He’s not giving the whole story,” Ollie said. “I never killed anyone with my magic.”

“An explosion secondary to a spell cast by Oliver here is what killed him. So yes, technically, Oliver didn’t kill anyone, but…” he turned back to Ollie, “had you better control over your magic, Thornton Halls would still be alive.”

Ollie whirled on Emmerich. “You know how terrible I feel about that, Emmerich. And, if you recall, it’s how we ended up dating. You felt bad for me, following me around for days like a hopeful little puppy to tell me it wasn’t my fault, that ‘it could have happened to anyone.’” Ollie made little air quotes as he repeated what Emmerich had said back then. “Then you wore me down, and I finally gave in and let you fuck me.”

“For seven years,” Emmerich said.

Ollie’s eyes narrowed. “More like six. That last year, you were too busy sniffing the asses of every Synod Seraphim, Ordinal, and Sagewarden until they gave you this position.” He lifted his chin. “And I hear you’re still planting your seed into the ass of a Sagewarden now.”

Emmerich looked to Adrian. “Have you fucked him yet? He’s a starfish, isn’t he?”

Ollie’s eyes widened. He looked back at Adrian. “I’m not a starfish. That’s—” His angry gaze moved back to Emmerich, who glared back.

“All he does is lie there, ass up, arms out to the side while you get to do all the work,” Emmerich said, his voice raised.

Ollie crossed his arms. “Maybe it was because I didn’t want to have to look at you while you did it. You have the orgasm face of a guppy.”

Emmerich’s eyes widened, and his mouth opened and then closed.

“Yeah,” Ollie said. “Just like that.”

For a moment, Emmerich couldn’t speak. “You...” He put the phone down and took a step toward Ollie. “I was hurt after the breakup too, you know.”

Ollie rolled his eyes, then he pointed to the symbol in the image. “The symbol. Can you tell us what it means or not?”

There was a moment where Ollie felt like Emmerich was going to grab the phone and throw it back at him to tell them to get lost. It wouldn’t surprise him if he did. But Ollie also knew Emmerich well enough to be able to tell when he was hooked on something. His glance back at the image on the phone told Ollie all he needed to know. “Of course I can. But I need to do some research first.”

With his arms crossed, Ollie stared at Emmerich. “How long?”

“Two days.”

Ollie glanced over at Adrian, who was glaring at Emmerich in a way that made him a little glad. When he finally noticed Ollie, he gave a little shrug of assent.

Turning back to Emmerich, Ollie said, “I’ll call you tomorrow. I expect you’ll have something by then.”

“I’ll need a copy of that image.”

“I’ll text it to you,” Ollie said. “Assuming you don’t still have me blocked.”

Emmerich gave Ollie a surprising reaction that suggested he was wounded by the suggestion. “I never had you blocked,” he said.

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he turned to Adrian. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Adrian said with a hard stare at Emmerich before he turned to walk next to Ollie as they left the Archives.